


Leather straps might as well be chains, neither will spare you from the pains

by turntochapter13



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 13x11, Angst, Dean a good big brother, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s13e11 Breakdown, Gen, Hallucifer, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Present Tense, Sam Winchester Has Panic Attacks, bad memories, he understands, im bad at writing in present tense as well :/, triggering??maybe??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-08 19:18:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14700519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turntochapter13/pseuds/turntochapter13
Summary: His vision subsides its focus, first from the sudden light and then from the quickening of the beat of his heart, the rush of panic sending surges of fuzziness to his brain.The leather accustomed to each wrist and ankle dissolves, now being replaced by scolding hot metal, sparking and popping at its own boiling temperature.





	Leather straps might as well be chains, neither will spare you from the pains

**Author's Note:**

> Plz ignore that title. I guess I was? just? feelin'? like? a ? poet?
> 
> -Lili <3

The shot rung through his ears, sending a deafening wave through the tortured canal. It took a miniscule portion of time before the bang was nothing more than echo and his brothers voice grew louder to the point of painful. He finally let light creep into the thin slits of his squinted eyes that he had forgotten that he let close, waiting for the inevitable end.  
His vision subsides its focus, first from the sudden light and then from the quickening of the beat of his heart, the rush of panic sending surges of fuzziness to his brain.  
The leather accustomed to each wrist and ankle dissolves, now being replaced by scolding hot metal, sparking and popping at its own boiling temperature. The rest of his body envelopes with an opposing climate. His chest begins to heave at its own will to take in the unresponsive air. It felt like all of his ribs were about to break off because of the chill that they were confronted with. "N-n no, please, d'nt"  
Dean's voice was nothing more than a muffle now, the echoing rounds of "Sam" or "Sammy" slowing churning and morphing to a different and more clear voice. "Sa-mmy" Lucifer begins to drawl it out letting a gut churning cackle consume his voice as Sam began to squirm more, his body starts to convulse with the urge to let out the bile rising in his throat.  
"Awe come on, don't be such a baby." The archangel sighs, "I missed you buddy.... we're gonna have so no much fun." the words crackle in unison with the flashes of images, some from the cage and some where he's at home at the bunker with his bother, but.... its not really his brother. It's Lucifer in disguise, tricking his brain into believing it's his bother spewing out probably the worst words in existence, all directed towards Sam. He felt like he was falling but being suffocated at the same time. How is that possible? He can't breathe properly. The small intervals where he could let air in, being chopped in half and maybe even thirds, none anywhere close to what could be considered even and calm.  
   
"Sam!" Dean's clueless on what to do, one second he's shooting the weird pig man in the heart and the next his little brother is exposed after the now lifeless body of a rogue officer falls to the ground, limp. At first his heart skips a beat, he sees the younger man's form, still and eyes closed on the cot he is trapped on. He thinks he somehow shot him as the bullet passed through the monster that now lies on the ground dead, but then he sees him move, but his relief is cut short. The moves become more frantic. Understandable. Wanting to get away from the man who was just trying to sell his organs to the highest bidder. But then his breath quickens. Dean runs up to him, worry written within the lines forming on his face. His brothers eyes are glassy and unfocused, seeing right through Dean. He starts muttering things incoherent to Dean's ears. Sam's yanking at the chains so hard, Dean's scared he might pop a bone out of its socket by the pure strength of his frantic movements. He's squirming as far as the restraining straps will allow, grunts and yelps falling out of his mouth. Dean is struck with a helplessness that he's well acquainted with. "Sammy! Come on bro... what's- y-youre okay" he's trying to rip the damn leather straps off, attempting to ignore the protest of his gentle touch from his brother. Now Sam's practically screaming, pleas ridden with horror spilling from his mouth with pure fright written within each syllable. "Sam! You're okay! It's just me!" It's not hard to tell by now that's his siblings hyperventilating, the only breath allowing itself in his body being consumed in short choppy exhales, tears begin to form in his dazed eyes, the sight making Dean's heart clench as he unbuckles the last of the leather.  
Okay. Maybe it's not hyperventilating. Dean's now getting that idea, the words he's dreading, entering his mind. A panic attack. That's the only sensible thing this could be.  
As soon as the younger man is completely free, he begins to curl up on his self, quickly being interrupted as Dean wraps his arms around him, pulling him up and then staring him straight in the eyes. "Sam listen. Whatever you're seeing, it's not real. I'm real. Come on buddy come back to me." Dean thinks he sees the slightest hint of awareness peek through his brothers state of mind so he continues, pleading the other to focus on his brother breathing. He brings Sam's hand to the his own chest, telling him to try and copy Dean's heart beat, to try and calm down. It takes for what seems like forever before the mumbles falter and his breath begins to slows, but Dean's just glad it's over.  
   
The image of the face he could only consider a nightmare, a one that replayed for years in the cage begins to soften. The once devilish grins and pure vile expressions softening. Words of rage being taken over by those calm and gentle. Lucifer's face slowing dissolves, leaving only the horror stricken and worried face of his brother. Not the façade that Lucifer plays. No. It's his real brother. He knows it. Not any amount of magic manipulation can recreate that look. The one only his brother can give him. One filled with distraughtfulness and love, thinned out lips and furrowed brows, miles of codependency etching their way through his brothers expression. His shaky hand is place on his brothers chest. Though his voice is muffled Sam gets the idea. He tries to match Dean's heart beat, faster than usual because of his own fear but still slower than the panic enveloping his brothers. They stay there for a long time. Silence riddling the room. They exchange knowing glances.  
Dean waits a beat. "Lucifer?"  
Sam looks down, shame and embarrassment, forming in his mind, but he doesn't shy away frown the one word question. "Lucifer."


End file.
